


Desert Days

by LordBaronOfMuffins



Category: RWBY
Genre: Actual fluff?, D:, Grimmy bois, How Do I Tag, I am potatoing my way through tags, Implied Suicide Attempt, Mentions of suicide in chapter 2, Mild Language, My friend's OCs, OC Galore, Original Character(s), Send Help Pls, Slate should never team up with Yang, body horror???, good parents, gore ish, how do you know if it's graphic?, it's all ogre now, owl puns, owo, tiny cat Faunus, wait, wait what's this?, well Cheeseborgers, what's acceptable to what?, worldbuilding attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26362381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordBaronOfMuffins/pseuds/LordBaronOfMuffins
Summary: Vacuo's a harsh environment, switching between extreme heat and extreme cold, infested with more Grimm than people, sand, and the subtle realization that the universe hates Vacuo.But the people will thrive, whether Faunus or human.
Kudos: 1





	1. Old Rounds

**Author's Note:**

> So my friend ended up getting the books for RWBY and told me about how the first chapter was just Velvet hating on Vacuo. Remembering a one-off trip while I was four where my mother and I visited a desert after going to the beach I agreed and disagreed.
> 
> It was sand as far as the eye could see, the heat permeating through clothes until it was suffocating. You'd take a step and sink in at least a good inch. In this empty wasteland of only sand, it felt like a different world altogether.
> 
> And it was beautiful.
> 
> Of course, there's more to a desert than a giant sandbox.

There were only two weeks before the festival started in Hornfels and Ochre Xanthos was busier than when he was working in the hospital. People rushed to and fro from their houses to their work and vice versa while others hung colorful paper decorations from the sandstone buildings. Shop owners were bringing out their best merchandise-- from flowing robes with gilded edges of different metals to the extremely rare bouquet of desert lotus flowers to the mundane but reliable tools that many of the nomad cities relied upon. Children ran in the streets, their laughter carried much further than expected in the hubbub of shouting merchants and the ongoing music of the local band.

It made his rounds far more difficult to complete.

Luckily, once he got out of the crowded main street where the bazaars were held, the way to his first stop was much, much calmer.

The Al-Tajir compound had been an ambitious attempt of the Al-Tajir family to have a closed workshop for goods, a warehouse for merchandise, and their home. Only the house and the workshop were ever finished, leaving a large expanse of land within the walls.

Ochre jumped out of the way of two merchants carrying their wares in large woven baskets rushing out of the workshop. If he remembered correctly, they were Aysha and Amin Al-Tajir, cousins to his teammate.

"Ah, sorry-- Ochre, right?" Amin stopped for a moment, giving a sheepish, if blinding smile. Seriously, was everyone in this family all good looking? "Eisa's in the courtyard practicing for their fire performance."

"Morning Ochre. Amin, keep moving or else we won't get this finished by noon!" 

Amin mumbled something under his breath. "Sometimes, sister, it's best to slow down and enjoy life."

"Slowing down doesn't pay the bills. We'd starve if we went at your pace." Aysha retorted, already a foot out of the family compound.

"You two! Knuckleheads! Stop arguing!" Asim Al-Tajir burst through the doorway of the workshop, his impressive size reminding Ochre of a bear he had seen in pictures. "Your mother didn't suffer for three days for you two to bicker all the time! Now get going."

Once the siblings were out of sight(and sound) Asim turned to him, countenance changing back to his usual jolly if boisterous self. "Good morning, Ochre! How are you?" 

"Morning, Mr. Al-Tajir. Pretty busy this month. Amin told me that Eisa's out back?"

"Yep. The kid's working their tail off. Something about the landing-- oh shoot! I forgot the-- Ochre, go in. You're practically family. Go, go." Asim ran back into the building, grabbing his work gloves out of his work apron.

He didn't have to tell him twice: Ochre made his way through the compound past the workshop and the stone house to the courtyard, spotting his teammate.

"Eisa!"

To simply describe Eisa; they were good looking. Like everyone in their family. Ochre swore it must have been long-running constant of the universe categorized somewhere in whatever deity's mind next to 'water was wet', 'the moon is broken', and 'the Al-Tajir are all stupidly pretty'. They were also the tallest of the team, usurping the previous title owner at the end of the first year of the academy. More than once Ochre had caught civilians of both genders stealing glances at Eisa and seen them run into things.

Eisa gave a wide smile and stopped. They were practicing in their festival clothes, a pair bright crimson pants with silver designs and an open vest. Around their arms they had two long flowing cloths tied as an accent. "Ochre! Glad to see you off work for once."

"Mrs. Rang's gave me the day off. How's your leg? I know you've put a lot of stress on it recently."

The duo walked to one of the benches nearby, one under the mesquite tree that gave them shade. Eisa pulled up their left pant sleeve and took off their prosthetic. Ochre forced down the pang of guilt and helplessness and inspected what remained of his friend's leg. 

"Muscles seem tense. Are you doing at least twenty minutes of stretching afterwards?"

They rolled their eyes. "Yes mom, I'm making sure I stretch after exercise. Ochre, I'm fine. Most I've gotten is just some scrapes and burns. Hey, you better make it to the festival. It's bad enough Gris isn't making it this year."

At the mention of his partner, Ochre bristled. "I'll be there, maybe a little late but I'll be there. My shift ends at nine that day."

"Seriously, you two haven't made up yet? Ochre, it's been a year."

"Look, I'll forgive her the moment she realizes what she did wrong. Until then, I am not budging."

Eisa shook their head, black curls bouncing from the motion. "I guess ONGE will be out for our third year. Mountains will walk before she admits she's wrong. It might have been the wrong idea but she *did* buy time for other Hunters to arrive."

Ochre dug his nails into his palms. Eisa was right in that aspect. Gris had done exactly that; bought them time. But was it wrong of him to be angry at how easily she was willing to throw away her life? "Look, I just hate that she was so willing to die. As if it was her fate."

Eisa placed their leg back on. "Ochre, you're a good leader." Giving their friend a solid pat on the back, they stood up and picked up the swords. "I think you made the right call in disbanding the team."

"I sense a 'but' here..."

"But you forgot Gris sees all of us as important. So disbanding isolated her. And you know how strong her pack instinct is."

"I prefer that she hate me than being dead."

Eisa chuckled. "That's why you're the leader. So aside from checking my leg, what's up?"

He pulled out his scroll and replayed the message he got last night to them. The voice of ONGE's last member, Enten Noctis, came through.

"Team ONGE's Enten Noctis, estimated location just south-southeast of the King's Desert, currently with nomad city Stratum following migratory path one-one-three-zero. After consulting with off-site Grimm Specialist Gris Sylvant of ONGE, I will be routing Stratum to Hornfels. Requesting to change zone rating from moderately safe to avoid unless escorted. Grimm spotted are three Sand Marchers, one Great Lurker, a noticeable swarm of Boneaters. No Elder nor Abyssal Grimm spotted."

"Holy shit that's ba--"

Enten sighed in the recording, although it was very clear that he was fighting back his laughter. "Add-on to that report, per Grimm Specialist Sylvant's request I must quote this on record: Ochre's a bitch."

"--aaand we at least know that Gris is doing good. I think she misses you."

He pinched the bridge of his nose although Ochre couldn't help but smile. "She's such a piece of shit. But yeah, that's where we are. Headmaster Gale told me to start informing the third and fourth years but to continue the festival as planned."

Eisa took a long look at the workshop in the distance. "I'll keep my gear with me then in case we're to be deployed."

"Then don't let me keep you from practicing. Glad to see you back in fighting shape, Eisa."

"Thanks, brother. I'll see you around."

Sneaking out of the compound, Ochre went to his next stop: old granny Azura at the far edge of the city. 

He's have to take the rooftops.

It had been after the War, the first headmaster of Shade Academy had seen the need for uninterrupted access throughout the city so that the Huntsmen-in-training could assist wherever they were needed. He had been searching for a solution when he spotted children quickly jumping from building to building, clearing paths much faster than walking around without disrupting the common folk. So every building in Hornfels was built with easy access rooftops, eventually adding ziplines for the taller buildings.

Ochre didn't care much for them but if he wanted to complete everything before the sun remembered it had a grudge against Vacuo, then the rooftops were the way to go.

It made the trip only take about ten minutes to the dropoff point, which then he had to walk.

Now, granny Azura belonged to the Rang family, the oldest recorded family in all of Vacuo. It was only after the War that the Rang gained its status as the cornerstone of Vacuo not for its deeds throughout the war but for their kindness afterwards; adopting as many of the orphaned children and doing their best to provide for them. For their service, they were given a large expanse of land of their choosing.

Now this land, as stated previously, was in the outskirts of the city, where the tight clusters of buildings gave way to sparse tents and unclaimed land, dotted by sturdy yucca and long waxy needle like grass until eventually Ochre arrived.

The Rang house was... unique in appearance. They had kept the original central tent which was connected to the main house with by a covered walkway. Around that was additional buildings added over the years giving the place a patchwork feel.

"Ochre!"

He jumped, whirling around and spotting two of the three legendary Huntsmen of the Rang family; Hara and Kala. "Holy shi-- could you guys not sneak up on me every single time I visit?"

Hara, only differentiated by the themed ceremonial mask, chuckled. "Kala and I did not sneak. Gahara do not sneak. You're just oblivious to your surroundings." 

Ochre was patted on the shoulder by Kala. "One day."

The duo led him into the tent. "Gahara Azura is getting on in their years," Hara told him, a seriousness in their voice. "Thank you for doing these visits. The Gahara are in your debt."

Deep in the tent, on the thickest, most expensive rug sat Granny Azura. Pitch black mask painted with luminescent blue paint hid their features except for their the lower half of their face, revealing wrinkled, leather-like skin with a permanent frown. Their most noticeable feature, however, was that Gahara Azura had no arms. The senior grumbled.

Ochre assumed they were saying hello. "Good morning, Granny."

More grumbling.

"I'll be doing your weekly check up, yes. Have your prosthetics been working well?"

One quick grumble followed by nodding.

He got straight to work, using his Aura to sense how their body was running. Lungs strong and clear, some mild swelling on the joints, muscle degradation slowed to almost negligent increments. Good. He was glad the dietary change had worked. "Everything seems good, Granny."

"Gahara Azura did mention some issues waking up with the sun."

The air grew chilly and the muscles on Azura's neck grew taut. Three short, scolding grumbles.

"Forgive my impudence, Elder." Hara bowed, a smile still on their face. "But you know Asmani would not approve of not telling Ochre of this."

The last of the legendary Gahara, Asmani.

"I will talk with the doctor about that but you are in great health. The most that it might be is just... wait, didn't that soap opera that you like air late?"

"Ah! Yes!" Kala spoke up, tail swishing in excitement at the mention of the show. "Elder, Asmani, and I watch it every night."

He couldn't help but smile. "Then it might just be that. Your body is just tired. Please forgive me if I am out of line but you have done so much for Vacuo. It's fine for you to take it easy."

Azura grumbled up a storm, making Ochre think he might have offended the elder when they whispered, "... my twin and I would get up early to watch the sunrise..."

Oh. That's right. He forgot. "I'll come up with something then. You'll be able to watch the sunset. Anything else that worries you?"

They shook their head. He glanced back at Hara and Kala as confirmation. Nothing else.

"Then you have a clean bill of health. I'll be back next week around the same time." He bid the elder farewell and was escorted out by the younger Gahara.

They chatted with him until they got to the gate to the property, in which Hara cleared their throat. "Theodore informed us of Stratum."

He figured that would be the case. Headmaster Gale respected the Gahara. "It's real worrisome."

"It is regrettable that Sylvant had to leave for Vale. Her Semblance would have been invaluable at the moment."

Ochre froze, his chest tightening. Hara yelped in pain when Kala punched their arm. "Yeah," he said, feeling more and more like he swallowed a lump of wool. "It really would have been."

"The Gahara are in your favor, Ochre, for all that you do for Elder." Kala put their hand on his shoulder. "If there is anything you need, just let us know."

He nodded but refused to look at them. Now that his partner wasn't here, it hurt worse. Swallowing, he turned to the Gahara and-- they were gone. Of course. As silent as the shadows, as sure as the wind.

He sighed. Next stop, Mason Sylvant's house.

After a quick detour of buying some honeyed bread, he arrived to his destination; the Sylvant house. Sitting outside was Mason Sylvant, already smiling as soon as he spotted Ochre.

"There you are, Ochre! Right on time." With shaky legs and heavily leaning on his cane, Mason rose and greeted him with a hug. "Glad to see you. Mora's inside making some tea. Would you like some?"

Despite suffering a career ending injury that left him originally unable to walk, Mason Sylvant had kept his upbeat attitude and never stopped moving. The stonemason kept doing his best to continue his family's craft whether teaching others to employing the less fortunate. It left the man with a strong body with an ever stronger will.

"I would love some. I brought some sweet bread to share."

"Mora, Ochre's here."

The jackal Faunus turned. Gris had never talked about her mother's side of the family in the years he knew her, but everyone in Hornfels knew of the jackal gang. Mora had been part of that although it was hard for him to imagine it each time he saw those very familiar yellow eyes light up when she spotted Mason. And the tail wagging. It made the woman far less intimidating even with the scars and tattoos.

"Here ya go, Ochre."

Her hands were scarred and knuckles jagged. "Thank you, Ms. Mora."

She beamed.

_She was the pack's enforcer, as far as I know. Not the person I want near Da._

"So Mr. Sylvant, have you been having any unusual pain again?" He went through the question, just like last time and the time before. Yes, some pain, no, nothing unusual, doing therapy every day, the whole nine yards. The fact that Mason was able to walk no matter how briefly was a testament of how insanely stubborn he was.

As expected, the visit was quick, about as long as it took to drink a cup of tea. As he was about to wrap things up, there was a knock on the door.

"Kobre's back." Mora said.

Wait, Kobre? As in, team KPRR's Kobre Isla?

Mason stood up and went to open the door. Lo and behold, Kobre's intimidating form walked on in, one hand ready in case Mason fell. Their eyes met.

"Xanthos." A curt greeting.

"Isla." He really wished he had put on his combat gloves.

"Now, now young lady, Ochre is a guest. And Ochre, Kobre is like a daughter to me. Please, even if you have to pretend, be civil."

"Yes, Mr. Sylvant." Both of them answered sheepishly.

This lengthened the visit since now he couldn't just leave without making it seem it was Kobre's presence that bothered him. So another cup of tea it was.

Kobre occasionally glanced his way but played nice. "Mr. Sylvant, I went to check that new stone quarry location. You were right, there's a lot of Dust there."

"Wait," Ochre put down his cup, "Dust? As in, an actual Dust deposit?"

Not that that was rare. Vacuo was known for its immense Dust resources, all of which could not be easily acquired now that the SDC had taken all the safer spots and bled them dry.

"Not just any Dust. Lots of Hardlight Dust among other types." Kobre pulled out an unrefined, uncut dull white lump the size of a ball. "This could set you fo--"

Mason's voice cut through, sharper than any blade, stronger than any hammer. "Give it to the Academy."

Ochre had to stop him! "But--"

"No. Much more people need this than I need the money. I live well. I have people that care about me. I can go to the town and get a drink. It isn't easy with my condition, but I live well. This will let others do the same."

The expression the man made stopped either of them from arguing. 

Kobre lowered her head. "I will let the headmaster know, Mr. Sylvant."

If possible, Mora's eyes shone and her tail wagged faster. He could see why Gris protected her father fang and nail.

The conversation went on longer, about how the Mistrali couple that had moved in had their firstborn and so-and-so from the corner shop had thought they were being stalked by a Beowolf but it was actually a stray dog. That one got a laugh out of Mora, a deep, gravelly sounding laugh that made Mason smile fondly.

Kobre told of her teammates' usual shenanigans, known unofficially as the Fuck-off squad to the local Huntsmen. "So after being chased by the Dreadmedary for at least fifteen miles, Rou finally just loses it and yells at them but his Semblance activates and sends them flying into one another. Looked like someone put a bunch of eight legged turtles upside-down."

Ochre got a chuckle out of that. He hated Dreadmedaries. As he took another sip of his tea, he stopped. He'd never seen Kobre smile before. Usually she was scowling as if someone stole her last honey pear rose. 

He decided to stay quiet about that. Ochre liked not dying.

At the end of his cup of tea, the young man stood up. "Mr. Sylvant, Ms. Mora thank you for having me. I will give the update to Dr. Rang. Isla, good to see you."

That was a lie. Too much bad blood between them.

The moment the door closed behind him, he did his best to get some distance from the house. All he could remember is being tossed around like a ragdoll before Kobre stepped on his chest, eyes devoid of any emotions. If it hadn't been for the others, he knew his ribs would have been broken.

"Xanthos! Stop."

He froze, mind already doing everything it could to come up with a way to escape. "What do you want, Isla?"

Black eyes stared into him. Not at him. Into him. As if sizing him up. "Don't tell anyone about the Dust in the stone quarry. I'll talk to the headmaster so Mr. Sylvant can get his fair share."

There was a piece of a wooden fence haphazardly hanging off the nail. One good pull and it would make a good weapon.

"I wasn't going to. I've other things to do." Like telling Kobre about Stratum. "Keep your weapon handy during the festival. Stratum's been pushed out their migratory route by Grimm so we might be either dispatched or told to defend."

"Stratum? Is Rayleigh ok?"

"You're on first name basis with Anthelion?"

Kobre blushed, easily visible through her lighter skin. "We know each other."

"Riiight." He eyed her warily. "Enten escorting them here until that's dealt with." Ochre should have picked up an extra shift at the hospital. Just a little more and he could touch the damn plank.

"Can he keep them safe?" Without missing a beat, Kobre kicked the fence, the wood shattering into a thousand pieces. The giant of a woman glared down at him. "Noctis can barely take a punch."

Fuck.

"Don't doubt my teammates, Isla." He pushed her away, or rather tried to. It was like trying to topple a brick wall with a tissue. "Enten is--"

Ochre was lifted clean off the ground by the neck, black eyes glaring a hole into his soul. "I bet you're expecting her to jump out and save you."

A cold pit settled in his stomach. "Fuck off, Isla. I can take you."

The woman with the strength of ten men chuckled.

"No you can't, shorty." She was right. No one had bested Kobre Isla since the day she set foot in Shade Academy. The Beast of Shade smiled at him. "But if your teammate has as much fire as you're pretending to have, then Stratum should be fine."

The unsaid was easily understood.

"I trust Enten. He'll get them here safe." He was let go unceremoniously. Ochre scowled as he shook off the dust on his clothes.

"He better, Xanthos. Or I'll come looking for you."

Ochre Xanthos, leader of third year team ONGE, stood firm. "Bring it, bitch."

She laughed, a low dangerous sound that still made him afraid even after three years. "See you around, shorty."

He watched her go and let out a sigh. That went surprisingly well. Like a dumpster fire doused in gasoline.


	2. New Year, Same Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing truly changes no matter how much time moves on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How would a person prepare for monsters that feast not on human flesh but on fear?
> 
> Uh, warning about mentioned suicide.

"We must remember to be the open hand in times of need; the closed fist in times of adversity. We of Shade Academy must strive to be the shield and sword against the Grimm."

The initiation hall of Shade Academy was filled with all the student teams as the new first years were finally accepted in. The fourth year teams, KPRR, TERA, and CROM stood the furthest away up in the balcony looking down, followed by third year teams ONGE, LAPS, GNRD, and ONIX on the first floor in the back, and lastly the second year teams YRON, CBLT, GLZE, and UMBR closest to the stage.

Enten leaned over to his right. "The Prof really likes using that speech. I wasn't paying attention, but didn't he use that during our first year?"

"He did." Eisa nodded, biting back a chuckle, "It was the speech that made me think 'this is what I want to do for the rest of my life'. He used it last year as well."

"Heard the previous headmaster said those words to him before blowing his brains out." All three of ONGE stared at the sole female member, who stood watching the soon to be students with slight interest.

"Gris, what the fuck."

The jackal shrugged, looking mildly offended, "What? Heard it from Sherry."

"Of course you heard it from Professor Rouge. Damn it Sylvant, that's all I'm gonna think about now; sword and shield and chunky brain matter."

Two boys and two girls stepped up. They didn't look anything special except for maybe how they carried themselves, as if they had crawled out of hell and into the fire. Knowing the fourth year teams, they'd be the first targets. Team VRDS, the headmaster announced.

"Surprised it didn't go over your head due to how vertically challenged you are, Xanthos."

"You want to eat sand, you stupid dog?"

"Girls, girls, you're both pretty. Now lower your voices and murder each other quietly." Enten rolled his eyes. These two! Of course they'd have a go at each other here.

Gris flipped him off.

"Did you guys hear the rumor that KPRR let Grimm into the exam area?" Eisa, forever the peacekeeper of the team, stepped in. 

A group of three girls and one boy? Ochre barely could deal with one Gris. Dealing with three? Unimaginable.

Team ROZE.

Ochre glanced at his team "Heard it. Wouldn't put it past them." Especially Kobre, he wanted to add. That woman had a few screws loose ever since their first year.

"Sounds like them, at least."

"The rookies were safe either way." The jackal murmured. "Professor Gale got me and some of the other third years to keep an eye on them. Not that they needed us to step in. They dealt with the Grimm just fine."

The last of the new students stepped up. Ochre noted how similar that group was composed to theirs. Three boys and one girl. Nostalgic, almost.

Team BRNZ.

"It feels odd that we're going to be the upperclassmen now. Shame that we have to bully the first years."

It had become a sort of hazing and training for the harshness of the field. Each third and fourth year team picked on the youngers to 'toughen them up'.

"If those kids had waited one more year they wouldn't have had to deal with Kobre and the rest of KPRR."

Enten tilted his head. "I think it's better this way. KPRR, CROM, and TERA know fieldwork more than we do. The bad side, not the community service that we end up doing."

The leader of ONGE scowled. "It might have been, if they didn't beat the students black and blue then expect me to magically heal them all."

His Semblance had a limit, damn it!

"Not wrong, brother. Leaves them unwilling to work with us."

"I think it's fine. Zise and Riyo did that and I turned out fine."

"The Smiling Demon of-- Sylvant you yam-brained idiot, what part of 'left you with night terrors' is fine?"

"The part where I punched you while asleep, you cancerous shit midget."

"You asinine bitch sprout! You and your five brain cells want to get their stupidity pushed in?!"

"Bring it, you pint-sized crap gremlin! Those tiny baby hands won't hurt me."

Enten chuckled, quickly moving as some of the other teams noticed their squabble. He could make a good and easy lien here if he played the game right. Unrolling a small banner that he carried in his pocket, he waited with a shit eating smile.

And wait did he did not.

"What a hoot! Owl you doing, Enten? Putting money the anklebiter. He threw a good uppercut last time." Slate Steel, the aerial punmaster of sister team LAPS, swooped it, swiveling his head between the fight and him. "Look at those two go! I'd almost say they're beating out the sexual tension between them if owl didn't know better."

Ah, the money. "Fifty lien on the anklebiter, any particular end to add to the match?"

"Yeah, a professor getting involved. And a your mom from the jackal."

Ooh a nice bet. With how bored the professors looked, it gave the owl Faunus a good potential investment and by the ten percent charge he took, any winner got him a good outcome. "One to eight are your odds, may they be in your favor."

One by one, the other teams put cash in, from the mundane of Ochre knocking Gris into next week to the odd fetish request of bared abs.

Eisa laughed at that one. "Well, Gris does have nice abs."

"Second to yours, my friend."

A body was thrown their way and Eisa caught Ochre before he could hit them. Mumbling a thanks, ONGE's leader jumped back into the fight, murder in his eyes. This was going to get good.

Ochre threw a strong uppercut, hitting Gris in the bottom jaw. A retaliatory jab pushed him back then another and another, the jackal raining down rapid fire hits with her absurd strength.

"You bitch! Stop using my fighting style!"

"Sorry, I can't hear you over how short you are."

That bitch was really asking for it! "You halfwit gorilla! You're going to be eating through a straw after I'm done with you!"

An explosive right followed by a precise left broke through her guard, drilling into her stomach. Using his own style against him, she really wanted him to kick her ass!

"That's enough you two." Everyone froze, from the two combatants to the gamblers who were hoping to earn some money, as Theodore Gale, headmaster of Shade Academy, approached. "Fighting while I am introducing the first years... I did not expect this from you, Mr. Xanthos. Miss Sylvant, I believe we've had this chat before."

"Plenty of times, Professor." The jackal's ears lowered. She'd been scolded enough times, although something in his voice didn't sound right.

"Indeed. I believe this would be around the eightieth time."

Humor. There was humor in his voice. That was never a good thing, right? "Sounds about right, sir."

Theodore looked back to the professors and Amaranth Rang of Vacuan History, got up on the stage. "We'll be cutting the ceremony here. Please head to the down to the food hall, students."

As the students moved out of the initiation hall, team ONGE stayed back.

"You know, usually I would be disappointed in you two for fighting," Professor Gale chuckled out once only the five remained, "but Sherry and I were stargazing late into the night and I didn't practice my welcoming speech this year. So, just for today, you get a pass."

Wait. Holy shit. Ochre let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding. That was lucky, actually. "It won't happen again, Professor."

"Sweet! Let's go ea--"

"Miss Sylvant. I can not, unfortunately, overlook yours. Sherry and I will need to have a discussion with you. Come along now."

"Fuuuuuuuck." The jackal huffed out in annoyance, flicking her ears as she dragged her feet after the headmaster. "Save me some food, yeah?"

"Don't worry about that Gris. We'll save you some." Eisa said.

"Oh, and Ochre! Tell your mom if she needs some... help to give me a call. I'll always make time for her."

"Sylvant, you filthy mongrel, you stay the fuck away from my mother!"

Enten laughed. Well, hot sand, the damn owl Faunus hit it right again. If he kept this up, he was going to be richer than a Schnee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't help but love writing the insults Gris and Ochre throw at each other. It beats up depression, me dudes. Or at least, mine.


	3. Old Wounds, New Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, I set the writing GPS to something light and fun and ended up here.
> 
> Just an old Hunter sharing how his team died so uh trigger warnings? I feel like I don't write well enough for that to be needed but *shrugs*.
> 
> It's mostly dialogue since I wanted to try something out.

It was cathartic listening to her friends' voices, even if it was an old recording. The old student archive videos.

Was it really that long since she had helped make some of them? Hers had been about food-- something that got her teased by her friends.

But... she wasn't listening to that. She didn't want to hear herself.

"Understanding these circumstances allow us to-- will you pay attention?"

No, Gris answered, nostalgia hurting her.

"Nah. Sounds boring." Her voice replied back, causing Enten and Eisa to laugh.

"Come on, sister! Once we graduate, you'll need to know this." She could see in her mind, back when she had been the tallest and Eisa was still adorably round. Their voice was lighter too.

It hurt.

"Ah, I can see it now. A scared orphan, the lone survivor, trembling in fright as our great idiot is just trying to hurry the poor brat." Enten always loved being extra. It made them clash at times. It was great.

"Gris, you have to understand: communication is important." Ochre. Her partner. She wished she was as smart at him at times. He made things look easy. "And children are always ignored on the streets."

There had been something else. Damn it! If she could only remember what.

Gris paused the video and skipped through the others. Eisa's smart shopping and deal finding for Huntsmen, Enten's finding local signs of water, Slate's puntastic video about night hunting and how not to fuck up...

Wait.

"Take your time. We will go at your pace."

Oh. Oh dunes, how did she forget? Did she really not pay attention at all? She was such an idiot!

Cesar Mesquite's gravelly voice, choked up and filled with a raw madness, came through. "No. no. I have--I have to tell someone. If I don't, right now, I'll-- I'm such a coward! I'll back out."

Mesquite's video for Ochre's presentation, which ended up as some multipart series that everyone from first years to retired Huntsmen pitched in.

She just forgot to delete _this_.

Mesquite took a shaky breath. "We decided to take an alternate route. Back then it was just 'the tunnel', since it felt like you were going between two zones. Celia--"

His voice broke up, leaving them waiting for ten minutes in silence as he held his head in his hands.

"-- she noted that there was an odd edge to the horizon. A dark grey line kind of thing. We just-- Dust, I was so stupid! It's common for that area to change radically due to storms. Dimme used to say this, _'you can memorize every sand dune but the moment the wind blows, you'll be lost'_. He was like a brother to me. Taught me to navigate by stars, like how the Tribes do it."

Gris paused her exercise, standing on her hands and restarting her routine. She couldn't sit still. Not then, not now.

"Would you share that for another video? It be--"

"It'd be an honor. Everything that they knew and shared. They'll be with everyone instead of..."

Instead of being forgotten. Instead of being just another name on a grave.

"The line wasn't a line. It was a storm. We thought it'd blow over after a while so we hunkered down, just all normal. Back then, no dens existed on maps. It was all word of mouth. Celia was the first to notice the storm wasn't normal."

She remembered feeling so groggy. Her Semblance had flared up and just left her in between sleep and awake. And like always, she hadn't noticed.

"Grimm. Hundreds. Thousands. Celia was skewered by a Lurker from the ground. It-it didn't cut her fully. Ah, skin's really... skin's tough. Her lower body only stayed on by that."

At that point, Mesquite sounded calmer, which only reminded her that Ochre only became more afraid. She remembered the change in his scent.

"Craig? He lost his arm almost immediately after that. A Sphynx. Just... gone. A Boneater clawed my face so deep that the bone just-- uh, I couldn't breathe. Blood just gushing out of everywhere." 

He went on to describe in detail his team's injuries. How Craig had managed to pick up Celia body and they managed to get away only because something worse appeared; Jormundgard the Devourer.

"That ugly son of a wyrmshit saved us. You ever owed your life to a Grimm? Makes you feel horrible. Like you should have died." Mesquite laughed. Ochre later explained the Hunter was having a mental breakdown.

He laughed for a good solid minute, turning into ugly sobs. She wished she remembered this.

"I should have died." He stated point blank. His voice was too serene, too calm, too... normal. It made sense now why Ochre ended up calling Professor Gale. "You remember this. Grimm hate other Grimm more than they want to kill you. Whatever summoned the storm turned on Jormundgard and we ran, thinking it was southwest. We couldn't navigate with the stars since that asshole sun was out scorching our wounds."

Just leave him alone, Gris had said. He needs time to chill. Ochre ignored her.

He saved Mesquite from suicide.

"Celia... Celia died somewhere as we ran. We didn't notice. She died on Craig's back. I loved her. Craig passed out a few minutes later and never woke up. Mixture of heatstroke, bloodloss, and dehydration. Even in death he was just so fucking stubborn! _'I'm going to make it out here whether you think I can or can't. Cause fuck you'_."

They refused to leave the bodies for the scavengers, costing them time and effort. Gris would have done the same.

"But I think... the most painful way to go was Dimme. You ever meet someone and go, _'look at this camelfucker, he's gonna be great. He's gonna do something great.'_? That was Dimme. He just had that about him. He hit his head with something during that damn thing. Hard enough that his Aura popped immediately. It took us two days to realize the back of his head was almost scalped and his brain exposed. Word of advice, eat the ol' devilwood bark _after_ you make sure you have no other injuries."

She stopped her pushups, using her forearms to hold herself up and stretch out her spine.

If... when she got back to Hornfels, she was going to buy Mesquite as much booze as he wanted. Or chocolate. Man had a sweet tooth despite his appearance.

"I should have noticed. Dimme was sharp, you know? Kept cooler than ice Dust. I... I should have noticed."

Where was it? She just knew this was the thing she needed. It felt wrong to speed it up. So she listened. She listened the shitshow, listened to the anger of a man that had lost everything. Ochre had gotten it. Why couldn't she?

It didn't matter how long it took. She'd play this on repeat if it meant she got the answer.

At the end of his story, Mesquite let out a sigh of relief. "Finally. Finally got that off my chest. It's been eight years. Sands, I miss them every day. You know what? You little shits are all right."

"Thank you... I think."

The video cut out and jumped to much, much later. Gris turned her ear towards the scroll. She really didn't remember most of this.

"I think I know what I want to do."

She could hear munching and eating. It made sense, now that she understood her Semblance. "Hmm? Yeah?"

"Yes. Thanks for coming with me. Professor Rang's got permission to let me work at the hospital with one of the Rang Elders during my off days."

Why the hospital, she had asked. Elder Rang, the sassiest little old lady she had ever seen, was always harping about Huntsmen thinking themselves indestructible. Real fucking good at her job though. 

"I want to help kill Grimm but killing Grimm doesn't stop the wounds. I think... I think there's more to fix. You've seen the orphans. The injured. Maybe it's just more than killing a thing with no corpse."

"I don't really get it but if I can help, I'm here."

It was after she rewatched it a third time that she finally got it. Gris cursed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta love Grimm. Gotta love the idea of Grimm.
> 
> Death wormy boi go brrr


	4. Duty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this written for weeks. I just didn't know if I should post it. 
> 
> As can be seen, nothing is in chronological order. Ish. Sort of. 
> 
> *checks notes*
> 
> Yup. Just as keikkaku

"Rialta!" 

Mismatched eyes lazily looked over her shoulder. The dog let out a snarl as she saw who had called her. "Sylvant."

Getting along with the jackal had never been her strong point.

"Listen, have you seen your little cat friend?"

Lean crossed her arms, trying her hardest not to growl. "Dusk? What about them?"

"Look, just keep an eye on them if you see them. There's a weirdo about." Gris shrugged and prepped her stupidly named Bite.

"The only weirdo I've seen is you, Sylvant."

"Eat shit, Rialta."

But she had not seen Dusk in a while, now that the jackal had brought them up. Lean didn't feel like she needed to worry about that: the cat Faunus had a habit of coming and going as they pleased. Should she worry? Probably not.

Lean huffed, giving a little stomp. Fine. She'd look for the cat. It couldn't hurt, right?

But a weirdo? Really?

That was as vague as half the answers that the damned bitch usually gave.

The dog grabbed the zipline and moved to a higher rooftop, glancing around. Dusk was tiny, but their bright hairstyle and clothes would give them away easily...

Or so she thought.

Area after area, she could not spot her friend.

Of course. Dusk would be found when they wanted to.

_Flip-flop!_

If seeing Sylvant made her scowl then the sound ruined her morning, noon, and evening all at once. Suddenly, Lean knew who the weirdo was that the jackal had been warning her.

_Flip-flop!_

Her eye twitched. "What the fuck are you wearing."

Sinn posed. He still had his stupid hat but this time he wore a white sleeveless shirt and ripped up booty shorts. And the hated flipflops. "My beachwear."

If a giant Grimm were to attack and kill her, Lean would thank it. "You look disgusting. I hope you get sunburned."

"Please, bitch, I look fabulous."

She wasn't going to deal with this. Fuck it. "Whatever. Just don't harass anyone. If the upperclassmen get you, I'm not going risk my neck for you."

His reply was a rude gesture that looked as silly as he did.

Lean launched herself to another rooftop, refusing to deal with the idiot. Now, where was the cat? If she was a nonbinary cat Faunus, where would they go?

Oh.

Quietly, she got off the building and headed straight to the marketplace. Due to the sun's attempt at setting the sand on fire, most of the shops were closed for the moment, making her little walkabout far quicker than usual.

The workshop, however, stayed open. Wide looms filled with wool and silk were kept working by the expert hands of the spinsters. Some were old, with spindly bony hands that did not hesitate in their work. The youngest carried the lighter materials to and fro, from the appearance, most likely an orphan taken in by the workshop.

One of the seniors spotted her and waved her over.

"Huntress. I assume you are looking for someone."

Lean tried to remember her name. Maya. Old granny Maya. "A friend of mine."

The woman's skin was leathery and tough from years of work and sunshine but her age did not diminish that sharp all-knowing look in her eyes. Her robes were colorful, a dusty light blue that matched her eyes and various purple embroidery of maybe a fallen House or Tribe. With a steady hand, she moved a bundle of freshly spun rugs.

Dusk.

The cat was sprawled out comfortably on the stone floor, completely asleep. Occasionally, their bright red tail would twitch, briefly making Lean wonder what they were dreaming about.

"She showed up in the morning and just curled up here."

"They." Lean said absentmindedly as she bent down and picked up her friend.

"They were quite the delight to have and are welcomed here anytime, Huntress."

"I will let them know. Thank you for watching them, Elder."

The cat cuddled into her. Lean sighed and said goodbye, taking the cat Faunus with her. The sudden increase in warmth woke Dusk up. They stretched out, their hand meeting firm resistance.

"Keep pushing my face and I'll bury you in sand."

"Lean!" They clambered over the dog Faunus, settling down once they were on her shoulders. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. One of my upperclassmen told me to keep an eye on you. Sinn was causing trouble."

Dusk brushed their tail against her face. "That's why I hid."

Lean didn't say anything and continued her walk back to Shade. Should she say anything? Maybe. She could say that Dusk could stay with the spinsters. Or in Shade with her team, although she knew Uaine and Blanche didn't care for the cat.

So instead, Lean settled for the simple. "I'll be heading out for Denmother."

"What's that?"

"A group." The flicking of their tail told her they had more questions than answers. "I'll be with another group for a week or so. We're making sure the Dens remain safe."

"Can I go? It sounds fun!"

Lean had not expected that. "No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Pleeeeeease?"

Before she could answer, she heard the sound of someone on a zipline and looked up. All she saw was a cat.

"Rialta!" Oh. Noctis. Lean liked him. Well, except when he started a betting pool. She didn't like him then. "Mesquite's waiting!"

Cesar Mesquite. Lean flattened her ears. He was a stickler for punctuality.

"Can I go too?" Dusk pushed themselves up as they yelled at Noctis.

"Sure! But hurry up!"

Never mind. She didn't like him anymore. Lean let out an annoyed sigh and rushed on to the lines. Dusk almost covered her vision completely but the dog managed enough. Luckily, she always kept a bag always ready in case of days like these.

Dusk came along with their own backpack, tail arched high. "I'm ready too!"

Lean stared for a moment. "Why do you have a backpack ready?"

Their eyes darted to and fro. "No reason!"

She didn't bother questioning them. They hurried to the entrance to find the rest of Denmother. Mesquite looked furious.

"Rialta! Do you think this is some cutesy little camping trip? And what the hell is that?"

"My... partner."

Dusk hid behind her as Mesquite stomped his way over. Sylvant got in between them.

"Come on, Mes. We're wasting time."

The Hunter grumbled something that sounded like 'fucking second years' but most of him seemed deflated. Probably how much of a hassle it was to deal with Sylvant. "Alright. We'll be checking on the cardinal four dens. For the freshmeat, those are the dens approximately fifty or so miles away from the city. _We_ ," At this Mesquite glared at her, "will not be destroying mountains."

"Wait! You destroyed a mountain!? Why didn't you tell me?" The awed whisper only made Lean sigh.

Noctis spoke up instead, "Because it caused more trouble for us. That mountain was helping keep Grimm off this side of Vacuo."

Lean ignored them and did her last minute check. Weapon? Check. Herself? Check. Teammates? Unfortunately.

"We should get moving before we're stuck outside of a den." The last member, Rosso Cerasifera cleared his throat.

Mesquite looked like he swallowed a lemon. "Fine. Denmother, move out."

And promptly, Dusk realized this was a mistake. Sand! Sand everywhere! And it was hot! Uncomfortably so! They couldn't ride on Lian's back.

"Lean?"

The dog glanced over, spotting her friend. They didn't look so good. Lean took off her waterskin. "Here. Stay hydrated."

The cat chugged the water without breathing and promptly choked.

"Fucking-- you! Tiny little shit! Drink slowly!" Mesquite groaned. "Rialta!"

"I'm on it." The dog slowed down. "Dusk. Just take it easy. Once we get to the first den, we'll rest."

"It sucks! Why does this place suck!"

Sylvant laughed. "That's Vacuo! How long have you been here, cat?"

Dusk squinted at the jackal. "Oh! You're the bitch!"

"Definitely your friend, Rialta. I'm Gris." The third year slowed her pace to theirs. "You?"

"I'm Dusk!" They glanced at Lean. "She's not so bad."

"She's worse."

The jackal gave a very toothy smile and Dusk was suddenly not so sure. "Don't worry, freshmeat. We'll keep you safe."

"Fuck off, Sylvant."

"Hmm, maybe later."

"Ladies. Please," Enten said, "save it for the Grimm."

Lean huffed but kept quiet, glancing back at Dusk. Would the cat Faunus last long enough? 

Vacuo was a special kind of hell. Instead of hellfire and brimstone, it was sunlight and sand. Or gravel. Or baked earth that worked like concrete and almost melted a person alive. It all just depended on a person's location. And of course, that wasn't including the death zone.

The northern den was the gravelly sand kind of hell. It was just at the end of Shadowmaw Range, one of the few natural barriers against Jormundgard the Devourer of Cities.

Lean found the place annoying. Each step was shaky at best and for someone who used a giant war axe as their weapon, not having good footing really messed up her swing. But as part of Denmother, it didn't matter. A den was an oasis for Huntsmen, a safe zone from the overwhelming heat and the unforgiving frost that would form at nights.

There was a reason why the locals welcomed anyone who was willing to survive.

They managed to get there just before the last rays of sunllight died and the heat was no longer trying to choke them.

Lean threw Dusk over her shoulder and climbed up to the entrance of the den.

The others had already gone in, with Mesquite checking some of the supplies and doing a count. Rosso was running maintenance on the defense systems.

Enten waved her over.

"Rialta, can you check the walls of the well?"

She activated her Semblance. "Walls are good."

"Then what's this-- Gris, I need your opinion. Rialta, can you pull me some sample pieces of the walls so she can study them?"

She did as told and once Sylvant got to them, Lean was dismissed.

Now her part. Lean pressed her hand against the rock. Solid. No defects that could bring down the den. The other walls were the same, a sturdy quartz that had persevered longer than Vacuo had existed. Any potential issue she just fixed with her Semblance.

The dog went to Mesquite. "Den's structure is solid."

The Hunter waited for a moment then nodded when she didn't add anything else.

"You should probably check on your tiny friend. They look dead."

Lean tilted her head, placing her ear against Dusk's unmoving body. "They're alive."

Mesquite didn't look convinced.

"Hey mutt! Enten needs you for a sec." Sylvant called out to her. As she went past her, the jackal swooped up Dusk. At Lean's growl, Gris laughed, "Settle down. Just helping you out."

It turned out the jackal wasn't kidding. Enten had her filter out the earth sediments and push them to the bottom after a part of the well wall collapsed. It was as tedious as it was exhausting and by the time she finished, Lean dragged herself towards the designated restroom.

She nearly turned around and left.

"Lean! Did you finish?" Dusk tried to clamber up on her shoulders but Gris held them up by the back of their shirt. "Did you do rock things?"

Lean didn't answer, instead stripping down to nothing and grabbed a cloth from her bag, dipping it in water and began to wipe herself down.

"You should do the same, Dusk."

Once they were placed on the ground, the cat turned and quickly covered their eyes. "Wa-wait! Lean's still-- you can't just go naked!"

Gris blinked. "Why? More efficient. Now hurry up. The water gets cold."

"Bu-but--!"

"Dusk." At the sound of her voice, they turned to her. "Strip. Wipe yourself down. The others are waiting."

At their visible discomfort, Gris turned away as she removed her clothing. "There's nothing you've got to be worried about."

The trio quickly got cleaned up and let the boys have the restroom.

Sylvant strongarmed Dusk into helping with the tent. Lean would have complained about it but she was already falling asleep, resting her head against the bigger Faunus.

Once Dusk noticed, they poked their fingers together. "Umm..."

Lean listened.

"I'm going to set up my tent."

The dog was too tired to be surprised. Usually Dusk just bunked with the nearest person to them.

"Rialta, go sleep. I'll join in after my shift."

She didn't argue. Hell, she didn't even get the chance to fully undress; she just gave up halfway and fell asleep.

It was a while when someone crawled into the tent and roused her. Who?

Dusk.

Ah. Ok. Lean wrapped her arms around the cat as they settled on her. "Lean?"

She opened one eye. "Hmm?"

"It's cold."

It was, actually. Lean hoped Sylvant's shift ended soon. "Yeah. We'll warm up soon."

She didn't know how much time passed but the next time she woke up it was when Sylvant crawled into the tent. The jackal didn't say anything and cuddled into the cat and the dog. She froze when she realized there was one more but Lean gave her a look that let Gris know it was fine.

It was much, much later when she woke up. Dusk had moved during the night, something completely normal for them but not for Sylvant. Luckily, she also had been too tired since she didn't even wake up from the movement.

But now Dusk's pale eyes stared up at her and Lean was suddenly aware that the unwritten rule that Sylvant and her followed might be broken.

And then Dusk purred.

It was a nice sound, Lean noted. She knew cats purred. She assumed that Dusk could purr. This was just officially the first time she heard the noise.

"Lean?"

"Hmm?"

"This is nice."

She'd never admit it but she agreed. "Hmm."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feat. my friend's OCs

**Author's Note:**

> You ever just wonder how some things work? Like, how do people get to point a to point b when there's eldritch horrors along the way? What goes through a person's mind when they have to problem solve?


End file.
